


Crash

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Prowl Week 2020 [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Accident, Aliens, Energy Beings, Gen, Investigation, Non-Demonic Possession, Possession, Prowl Week 2020, Prowl's Dinosaur-Parrot, Serial Killers, Stakeouts, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Prowl gets called to the scene of what seems to be an unfortunate, but routine, illegal street-racing accident. But when he gets called back to headquarters to meet with an investigator from Iacon, it turns out to be something stranger and further-reaching.
Relationships: Jazz & Prowl, Prowl & Beautiful (Transformers)
Series: Prowl Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709683
Comments: 20
Kudos: 71
Collections: Prowl Week





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prowl Week 2020. Prompt: Crash.

The victim had tried to write something as he was dying. That was unusual enough. It was more so because he'd had to partially transform despite severe injuries to do so. The glyphs were too erratic to read, but Prowl made sure to get high-resolution image captures of them and to have them protected from the incoming thunderstorm. For as long as they could be protected, at least: this wasn't the best neighbourhood. Although, from the desolate feel to the place, perhaps it would be safe even so. This didn't feel like a place many mecha came, which only beggared the question of _how_ two mecha hadn't been able to avoid getting into a high-speed crash. A bout of Street racing gone wrong, perhaps? This would be an ideal place for it: empty and lightly patrolled, with long, straight stretches of street. The street was hardly racetrack smooth, but perhaps that was part of the challenge. The isolation also made it a perfect location for an illegal deal of some sort. Prowl wouldn't know until evidence collection and analysis was complete.

"Witnesses?" he asked the officer who had been first on the scene. He wasn't surprised when he shook his head.

"No, sir. One of the victims managed to ping emergency services before dying, but if anyone else was here, they didn't stick around."

Prowl nodded. "Of course. Have your report on my desk by mid-shift tomorrow, please."

"Yes, sir." The officer turned away, politely putting one hand to the side of his helm to indicate he was calling in to let their dispatcher know they were returning to the station.

Prowl went back to scanning the crime scene, recording everything in high-definition for later analysis. A clear path of debris and a smear of paint on the road showed where the accident had occurred. Prowl stood, looking idle to some, while reconstructing the accident in his head. When he was at last satisfied that he had come to an accurate reconstruction (plus or minus point-zero-zero-two percent), Prowl turned his attention to the anomalies. Experience had taught him that while not everything found at the scene of an accident was relevant to the accident, it was often enough worth a look.

Prowl began by circling the perimeter of the accident itself, careful not to get in the way of the hearses maneuvering the corpses inside their compartments. Prowl didn't think anything of the first one but the second…

"Wait," he said sharply and walked over to the waiting hearse, mindful of where he put his feet.

The mech, who had been Techlight of Ambustus Minor, had also been the one to try and write the glyph in his own fluids, despite his fatal injuries. That explained the damage to one index finger, but not to the other. Prowl examined it, didn't see any traces of material transfer in it, and noted a small amount of flaking beginning at the edges of the damage. Older, then, than the other one. Curious. Prowl slipped an evidence bag over that hand too, just in case, and let the hearse finally leave. Then, he finished walking his slow spiral out from the accident, until he reached the point where evidence would not have landed post-collision. Prowl was debating whether or not he should do one last examination of the area, trying to see what (besides drugs or illegal street racing) might have brought the deceased to the area when he received a call.

' _Prowl here, sir,_ ' he said calmly, acknowledging the call.

Flatfoot, as usual, didn't waste time. ' _Prowl, I need you back here right now._ '

' _Sir_?'

' _I don't know what you've stepped in here, Prowl,_ ' as if Flatfoot hadn’t been the one to send him out here in the first place, ' _but I've got some kind of investigator from the_ Prime's _office here wanting to talk to the officers on scene. That includes you._ '

Prowl had no more idea than Flatfoot what an investigator from the Prime's office would want with him but acknowledged the order. He handed control of the scene over to the next most senior Enforcer present and went back.

When he set foot into the conference room the investigator had taken over, Prowl was not confronted by the type of mech he'd expected. Sleek racing curves, blocky limbs, bright blue visor, impertinent grin. Prowl really hadn't known what to expect when he'd heard the investigator was from the Prime's office, but it hadn't been this.

"Prowler, right?" the mech asked. "I'm Jazz. You were the senior officer on the scene, so I'm guessing you know the drill."

"My designation is Prowl," Prowl corrected. "Yes, I know how to give a report."

"Prowl, yeah, sorry. Alright, well, lay it on me."

Prowl was not sure what to make of this mech, but giving reports was a familiar task. "…very well." He gave his report, making sure it was precise and professional and left no room for even a Primal investigator to find any issues with it. Jazz listened attentively, in a way that told Prowl that at least part of the insouciant, carefree persona was a front. That was fine. Prowl could appreciate putting on a public face that made your life easier. He often did that himself – of course, no one seemed to like that persona either, but shyness and quiet were apparently not appropriate Enforcer characteristics. Prowl simply adapted to expectations and let himself be himself when he was at home with his pet pteraxodon. Prowl might be considered asocial by many, but Beautiful was always happy to listen to him.

"Huh, you caught the damage on the second victim's other hand," Jazz noted, sounding approving. "Got any ideas on that one?"

"I find it unlikely that he would have had a previous occasion to write a message in his own mech-fluid before becoming involved in a fatal accident," Prowl said drily, and was surprised, not unpleasantly, by Jazz's chuckle.

"You ain't wrong, mech," Jazz told him. The investigator slid a tablet across the table, an image carousel open to a capture from what Prowl concluded was a previous crime scene. "Tell me what you think of this?"

'This' was a clearer image of the glyph the crash victim had tried to write on the ground. This time, it was written on a wall and at the bottom of that wall sat a corpse, slumping sideways. Prowl frowned at it for a nano-klik then looked up at Jazz.

"You think he was the killer? Then why write this at the scene of his own death?" Prowl's thought processes caught up with him. "Or, do you believe he meant the other mech at the scene was his most recent victim?"

It seemed a touch on the dramatic side, especially for someone who was dying, but, of course, Techlight hadn’t died right away. Not like the other victim, Wheelwing of Vos, who hadn't been saved by being a triple-changer. Wheelwing, Prowl believed from his knowledge of accident scenes, had died instantly, most likely thanks to a spark-chamber breach. The impact that had killed him had been in the worst place possible, a remote chance. Unless, of course, it hadn't happened by chance at all.

"The murderer used the crash as his weapon," Prowl said, thinking out loud. "But would someone who could calculate the angle and speed necessary to breach a spark chamber miscalculate their own odds of survival so badly?"

"Unless it wasn't a miscalculation at all," Jazz said unexpectedly. "I think they were both victims. "Did you have your pathologist check for foreign energy signatures?"

"Not yet. What should I have her look for?"

Jazz grinned, one side of his mouth quirking up higher than the other. Prowl found it very appealing. "You're quick on the uptake, aren't you? No arguing about jurisdiction or anything like that?"

"You're not here because a suspect is dead," Prowl pointed out. "A report would have sufficed for that. A videoconference at most to discuss details. You're clearly here for another reason. Go ahead and tell me what you need the pathologist to look for."

Jazz's grin broadened, and he told him.

* * *

The pathologist, Afferent, raised her optic ridges – Prowl could hear it in her voice – at the request but agreed. He gave her the specifications Jazz had given him for the energy signature, and she gave him an approximate ETA on the results, which he passed on to Jazz.

"Cool," Jazz said. "While we're waiting, your shift almost over?"

"It's over now," Prowl answered. "Why?"

Jazz shrugged. "Wanna get some fuel? I could use it, and I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, either."

That…was not the reaction Prowl got from most mecha who met him in the course of his job. Of course, he also couldn't figure out a way to refuse without being rude and jeopardizing the working relationship between himself and Jazz. The relationship might be brief, but it would not help matters if there were unnecessary friction between them.

"Certainly," he said. "I just have to make a brief stop at home, first."

"Oh. Got someone you got to keep up to date?"

"Er, no," Prowl said, feeling a little shy. "I have a pet I have to feed."

That got Jazz's interest. "Oh yeah? What kind?"

Somehow, telling Jazz about Beautiful – who Prowl did not refer to by name – led to bringing Jazz home with him. Jazz had never seen a pet pteraxodon before and looked so fascinated by the idea that Prowl made the invitation. It wasn't something he typically would have done, but it was just so rare that someone else shared one of Prowl's interests. At least, to the same degree he did.

"So that's a pteraxodon, huh?" Jazz said, looking at Beautiful, where she perched on Prowl's arm, nibbling a piece of skitter from his fingers. "She got a name?"

"Not really," Prowl hedged, even as he smiled at her.

"Yeah, she does," Jazz said, knowingly. "I'm guessing it's more of a pet name than a pet's name from the way you're looking at her, and you're feeling shy about telling me."

"I – "

"I'm not gonna tease you about it," Jazz said frankly. "You're not the only mech got one style at work and another style away from it."

Prowl considered for a few nano-kliks. "…I call her 'Beautiful.'" She finished the skitter and nibbled affectionately at his fingertips. Prowl stroked her throat with the backs of his fingers, then held his arm out toward Jazz. "Would you like to…?"

"Sure." Jazz mimicked what Prowl had done, and Beautiful squawked contentedly. "Hey, there. Yeah. You're pretty cool, huh?" He looked over at Prowl again. "Is it just you and her?"

"Yes."

Jazz petted Beautiful again, and she closed her eyes, looking content. "Well, Beautiful, I hate to tear you away from Prowler, here, but you've had your dinner, time for us to get ours. If you're okay with that, that is."

As if she understood, Beautiful chirped and launched herself into the air, gliding back to her perch. Jazz chuckled.

“Guess that’s a ‘yes’ then. Got anywhere in mind? I'm not familiar with Praxus.”

Prowl suggested a restaurant he’d visited a stellar-cycle or so back and enjoyed but had just never gotten back to. He had no issue with dining alone in public, he’d simply never had the chance. The restaurant was mid-sized but, thanks to the cycle of the deca-cycle and the joor, reasonably empty. Jazz seemed pleased with it, commenting that it would be a good spot for some live music. Contrary to what a lot of people thought, Prowl _did_ understand the concept of small talk, he just didn’t always see the point, and so he used that as a starting point to get to know Jazz better. Of course, Jazz was also a skilled investigator, and they were soon both enjoying a conversational game where they tried to get information out of the other without revealing anything about themselves.

Jazz’s foot nudged Prowl’s, under the table, during the dessert course. Prowl was sure it wasn’t accidental but not sure if he wanted to respond. After a moment, Jazz withdrew. He didn’t seem offended, and the conversation continued.

They were just getting up to leave when Prowl got the comm from Afferent, letting him know the results of the energy scan were ready. She also suggested they come to view them themselves, an odd request that made Prowl frown, though Jazz looked unsurprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I was expecting,” he sighed. “Could still be wrong, though. Let’s go check it out.”

Prowl led Jazz down to the morgue, a reasonably new facility built only a few vorn ago. The stark lights brought everything out in high relief, especially Afferent's white and dark-red paint scheme. Afferent was half again as tall as Prowl and Jazz were, broader and stronger as benefitted a medic. She looked over at them, mouth hidden behind a mask, and her optics shaded to confusion.

“I don’t know what you've sent me here,” she said, her low voice sounding displeased, “but it’s weird. Alien weird but not totally unrecognizable. It’s a life sign, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Energy being of some kind.”

Prowl had been told that when he gave voice to a conclusion without letting others in on his line of reasoning, it was confusing and even off-putting for others. He did try to avoid it, but he also didn’t like being talked over.

“You’re tracking an energy-based life form that’s been infesting mecha and using them to commit serial murder?” he asked, one optic ridge slightly raised.

Jazz threw him a grin, looking pleased and far from put off. “Knew I didn’t need to hold your hand and walk you through it. Yeah, that’s it, exactly.”

“One that periodically kills its host and transferring itself from the corpse to new host to avoid suspicion?”

Jazz’s grin widened. “You got it.”

"Jazz…"

"Look, I know how it sounds. I'm not the first investigator on this, you don't think I know how it sounds?" Jazz asked, grin disappearing. "But yeah. That's what's going on. Hostile serial killer energy alien moving between hosts."

Prowl did a rapid calculation based on existing data, including knowledge of energy-based aliens that could potentially overtake a Cybertronian. The probability was higher than he was comfortable with.

“I'd like to ask if you’re joking, but I know you aren’t,” Afferent said with a sigh. “Just when you think you’ve seen all the weird slag…”

Prowl agreed with the sentiment, though he didn’t say anything.

"If the alien is killing its host when it jumps between them, then what happened when its last host died?" he asked instead.

"Could there have been a third mech at the scene?" Jazz asked. "From what we've seen, it needs to jump to a new host pretty quick after the current one dies."

"If there were, they weren't in the radius of the accident itself," Prowl replied. "How far can the entity travel without a host?"

"I would calculate it at no more than fifty mechanometres," Afferent put in. "Assuming it has to find a new host before it begins to lose cohesion, its energy decay signature suggests that one klik would be the maximum length of time it could exist without one."

Eliminating the first officers on the scene as possible hosts, Prowl noted. He was relieved to know he wouldn't have to investigate any of his fellow Enforcers. However, it meant they would have to locate someone who was, currently, only theoretical. That would be far more difficult, and Prowl doubted they would be able to do so before there was another murder.

"We have enough light left to explore the remainder of the area surrounding the crash, within the radius Afferent specified," Prowl said thoughtfully. "Is it possible that any residual energy might still be detectable?"

"Yeah, but it might not help much," Jazz cautioned. "The alien's only really detectable when it's entering or leaving a host. It's why we're not having a lot of luck tracking it. Best we can hope for is figuring out who it's using as a host right now. I'd say that it didn't find one, but I don't have that kind of luck."

Neither did Prowl. He borrowed a CNA-scanner and an energy-scanner from mechaforensics and he and Jazz returned to the scene.

The bodies and the Enforcer's equipment had been removed, but bits of metal still marked where the accident had happened. The next acid rainstorm would dissolve it, leaving little to no trace. Prowl gave Jazz the energy-scanner, since the investigator was the most familiar with their quarry, and followed his lead. Jazz led him into a derelict apartment building. The door of the building was jammed open, and the sprayers in the entryway for acid-rain neutralizer hissed fitfully while emitting nothing but air. Inside, it seemed empty, though Prowl was quite sure it was not. But whoever might be here and for whatever reason, it was none of Prowl's concern right now.

The scanner led them to an abandoned-looking, run-down apartment on the first floor. There, the energy signature became concentrated for a nano-klik or three then vanished. Prowl immediately brought out the CNA-scanner and took a reading. The scanner came back with a half-dozen readable profiles and a handful that had been degraded by time. Prowl pulled up the owners' profiles and sorted them in order of most to least recent.

"That our mech?" Jazz asked, peering at the screen.

"He is the most likely subject, yes." Prowl frowned. "No fixed address." Few of the mecha listed did. "That may make him difficult to locate. There is an image, though. Shall I send out an alert for officers to be on the lookout for him?"

"Yeah, but tell them to report back only, not to approach. Don’t know what this alien will do if it's cornered."

"Commit murder, presumably," Prowl said and didn't feel offended when Jazz chuckled. "Do you have any idea on how to capture the entity?"

"Yeah, we had an engineer put something together for us. I've got it in my subspace. I'm just hoping, um…"

Prowl raised an optic ridge at the hesitation. "'Um,' what?"

"It might…explode. I mean, probably not," Jazz added hastily. "Wheeljack's good about testing the stuff he sends out in the field, but there's always a chance."

"Has any of it exploded for you?" Prowl inquired.

"Yeah, but that was vorns ago," Jazz assured him. "'Jack says he fixed the problem with that kind of power supply way back."

Prowl was…less than convinced by Jazz's tone but there wasn't much option right now, he supposed. They could do no more than assist in the search and perform surveillance on the likely suspects; Prowl was not going to focus on one at a time. A high probability was not a certainty, after all, and he didn't want anyone else to die, or the alien to jump again, because he'd focussed on the wrong suspect. Still, Prowl assigned himself and Jazz to the most likely – Prowl forced himself to stop thinking 'suspect.' The mech they were looking for was, for lack of a better term, possessed, and was a victim as well.

While the mech they were looking for had no fixed address, there were a few locations they could hope he would visit. The shelter seemed the most likely, if only because even a possessed mech needed to refuel and recharge. Jazz said that the alien seemed to have some understanding of its hosts' habits and would, at least early in the possession, tend to keep them. Jazz also said the alien took victims that were similar to its host, meaning it would likely try to kill another homeless mech. Prowl and Jazz were staking out the shelter from an empty office across the street, waiting for their quarry to make an appearance.

Prowl had routinely been put on surveillance details as a new officer because his superiors felt that he wasn't bored by them. This wasn't true; Prowl found surveillance just as dull as his fellow Enforcers did, but he was very, very, patient, and his boredom simply didn't show. He could sit quietly for entire cycles and wait without showing it, and even without talking, which had unnerved some of his previous partners. Prowl had expected Jazz to be the same, but it turned out the mech was just as capable of sitting silently as Prowl was. Sitting quietly with Jazz felt surprisingly companionable instead of purely awkward.

"What are we going to do if he shows up, and Wheeljack's gizmo doesn't work after all?" Jazz had asked at the beginning of their stakeout.

"Follow him," Prowl had answered. "Make sure the alien can't take another victim."

"Yeah?" Jazz had given him a sidelong glance. "Gonna take a life to save a life, Prowler?"

"I would prefer not to. My intent is to incapacitate, not kill."

"What are you going to do if you can incapacitate them? Got something you can hold them on?" Jazz had asked. "The possessed mech didn't do anything, and it's not going to be easy convincing people he's got an alien serial killer riding around inside him."

"If they try to take a victim, assault or attempted battery. Perhaps vagrancy, as the building we found their signature in is still private property."

"Arrest mechs for being homeless often?"

Prowl had shaken his head. "No. I've never done it, and the law is rarely enforced these days. I only suggest it as a way of keeping a serial killer off the streets."

"Huh." Jazz had resettled himself in his chair. "Would've thought you were the type to be a little more strict about the laws."

"I'm strict about justice." Prowl had replied. "The law should reflect that. It doesn't always. It isn't justice to arrest someone for experiencing misfortune."

"Huh," Jazz said again, thoughtfully this time, and didn't say anything for a while.

They sat there, hidden in the dark, watching in silence and Prowl occasionally wondered what Jazz was thinking. They were there for several joors, watching the street slowly empty. There was no sign of their target, not until it was almost light. Prowl saw him first, nudged Jazz's arm to get his attention then pointed out their target. Jazz didn't move, but Prowl knew he was paying attention. The target didn't make to enter the shelter just yet but slipped into the alley between buildings. Prowl stood, shadowed by Jazz, and they made their way into the street.

Jazz went out a side door, and Prowl was impressed by the way the mech seemed to fairly disappear. Prowl could be quiet but, built as an Enforcer, tended to be noticeable no matter what. That could be to their advantage: the alien would be more likely to pay attention to Prowl and be less or utterly unaware of Jazz. Since Jazz had the weapon, that would further their advantage still more.

The alley was narrow; Prowl had to sweep his doors back to move easily through it. Ahead, in the half-light of the alley, Prowl could see their target and, roughly halfway down the alley, the killer's likely quarry, a mech covered in patchy rust slumped against the wall. Prowl did not have to weigh the options and announced himself.

Unsurprisingly, the target did not stop and wait as instructed upon hearing the word 'Enforcer.' They rounded on Prowl, who brought his service weapon – set on stun – to bear and repeated his order to halt. The killer didn't obey it, but fortunately, neither did Jazz. The investigator dropped down out of Prowl didn't even know where, his weight bearing the target to the ground, and slapped a device of some kind onto the mech's back.

There was a bright flash and a horrible wailing sound. Prowl flinched and covered his optics, and when he looked back, Jazz was sitting to one side of the mech holding a knobby metal and glass cube. The mech was curled up and keening softly, and Jazz patted their shoulder tiredly. Prowl did not need to be asked to call for an ambulance. He called for assistance for the rust-covered mech as well. If anyone resisted giving them treatment, Prowl would simply claim they were a potential witness and thus not only entitled to it but possibly in need to ensure they would be fit to testify. Jazz, like Prowl, was fine.

* * *

"What will you do with the alien?" Prowl asked Jazz after everything had been settled as much as it could be that night.

Jazz, looking tired, shrugged. "That one's above my paygrade, but I'm guessing a trial once someone figures out how to talk to 'em, and then prison. Something like a modified spark prison, I'd guess. Can't kill any more mechs, though, so my job's done."

"And you're leaving." Prowl had only known the mech for a day, and he wasn't sure why he disliked the idea so much.

Jazz might have been tired, but he could still manage an insouciant grin. "Nah, don't think I will. The doc back home's been nagging at me to take a vacation for a while, and we all thought this investigation would take a bit longer. So I'm here for the rest of the deca-cycle. Maybe more if Ratchet browbeats Blacklight into it. The doc thinks I don't take enough time off."

Prowl had heard this from his own medic, Hoist, as well, and he did have a fair bit of time saved up the doctor was encouraging him to take.

"I could, perhaps, take a long weekend as well?" Prowl offered hesitantly, hoping he didn't sound as shy as he felt. "My medic also tells me I'm overdue for time off."

Jazz's grin brightened; he looked genuinely pleased. "Offering to show me around, Prowler?"

"If you'd like…?"

"Yeah," Jazz said, smiling warmly. "Yeah, I'd like that a whole lot."

**Author's Note:**

> At the time of writing, I could not for the life of me find a canon species for Prowl's pet, Beautiful. [According to TVTropes](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/ComicBook/Transformers2019), (ctrl+F bird) it's a nod to Pteraxodon, his Targetmaster partner in the Siege line. Pteraxodon sounded like a decent enough species name so I ran with it.
> 
> Afferent: _adjective_ bringing to or leading toward an organ or part, as a nerve or arteriole (opposed to efferent). _noun_ a nerve carrying a message toward the central nervous system. [[Source](https://www.dictionary.com/browse/afferent)] I picture her sounding like TFA Strika.  
> \---  
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> Author Responses: This author replies to comments. If you don't want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with "whisper," and I will appreciate it but not respond.


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